


Domestic Bliss

by Rice_Pudding



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Domestic Bliss, Duality, Emotional Manipulation, Family Dynamics, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Sad, again I'm sorry but I really like the song, but maybe not?, good and bad times, sbi, toxic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rice_Pudding/pseuds/Rice_Pudding
Summary: domestic bliss“I know how bad you wanted it.”Schlatt’s eyes were very hard to read most times, let alone look at. But right now, now Schlatt looked at Wilbur like he was the most precious broken thing he had ever laid his eyes on. How could Wilbur bear to look at him when it was like this? How could he form sentences to express his sentiments. How could he stay here?He couldn’t.Not with Schlatt holding his hand as gently as he was. In juxtaposition with the bruised fingers attached to Wilburs hand and arm. Wilbur couldn’t look at Schlatt nor at himself.Wilbur couldn’t do a lot of things.He wanted to run, but he also wanted to stay. Schlatt was warm and he was burning, but he was also cold and alluring. Schlatt was there and it hurt so much.But maybe it didn’t have to. Maybe it could be better.
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Domestic Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to this monster of a fic. I'd like to preface this with a warning that this fanfic might get graphic. This first chapter is very tame but as it progresses. I was inspired by the song "Domestic Bliss" by the Glass Animals, and I mean, who hasn't read Heatwaves. I'd like to thank that pic for getting me back into the band. Anyways, I hope you enjoy my writing. (:

“Why do you put up with that shit!” 

Tommy has a way with words that Wilbur would’ve never understood nor have tried to understand. 

“Why do you stay? With him!” he shouted accusingly.

He wouldn’t understand. Understand what Wilbur did, why he stayed, how Wilbur felt and saw him. Tommy was young, and just couldn’t see what Wilbur saw. It was different, it was blurred. 

“You wouldn’t get it…”

Whispered, like all of Schlatt’s promises of kindness. Of coming home together or to each other, and lounging about in their comfortable home. Not too big nor too small. He’d forget, just like Wilbur would. They were very similar.

“Wouldn’t understand? What does that even mean!” Tommy started to become belligerent as his voice reached a new volume, “I understand that he’s hitting you! I understand that you try to lie and cover for him. I understand that he’s a drunk and that you don’t feel happy-”

-“You don’t know what I feel!” 

“....”

 _Silence._ That’s what Wilbur wanted, no, needed; that’s what Wilbur needed. He was tired. He hadn’t slept all night. Yet here he was, standing in his old family home being yelled at by his baby brother. Almost like when they were kids, good times those were. 

“Wil?”

Tommy wasn’t angry, Wilbur knew what anger looked like. Tommy was desperate but he couldn’t understand why. Neither of them understood anything at the moment. Tommy just misunderstood, he’s confused. Wilbur knows exactly what he’s in, he is aware of how terrible it may seem to those who observe. But it wasn’t like that, it went both ways. That’s how love works; it takes two to tango. 

“I think I should get going Tommy,” 

“Don’t!” Tommy had cried, “Don’t go back, you can stay here! With me and Dad, you shouldn’t go back. He’ll hurt you again and again-”

“...Tommy,”

“Please!” Tears are a great way to convince people. Wilbur knows how tears can turn the tides of a situation, like a rainstorm to an ocean. Wilbur was able to create and solve so many of his and Schlatt’s arguments with a few tears. Though it did depend on the levels of alcohol consumed by the other. Tears were a double-edge sword. 

It’s a good thing Wilbur wields that sword far better than Tommy could ever try to. 

“I can’t stay, Schlatt would get lonely.”

“Who cares!” Again, yelling. “What does it matter if he feels “lonely”, Wil, you need help. I’m worried, Dad is worried, and Techno-”

-”Doesn’t care...I know that already.”

‘Lost cause’ was a common phrase spat at him by his other brother. Again, good times. 

“That’s not true! You just don’t listen!” 

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Why!” Sore, wet eyes spoke more than words ever could. Wilbur recalls days where the soreness wouldn’t leave, and the wetness only made it worse. Those were days that the words would hurt a lot more than the bruises. 

Poor Tommy. His eyes will be sore until tomorrow.

“Because, because I love him. I’m not harmed permanently and he feels guilty when he does...what he does,” 

_Explaining was hard._

“I care about him Tommy, and there is nothing that’ll change that. Do I want to be better? Fuck yes, I want with all my heart to be better. But Tommy, how could he and I be better if I quit? It takes two to tango-”

-”Don’t fucking say it!, Don’t spew his bullshit excuses at me. I’m not stupid! I don’t fall for stupid shit like that Wil.” 

_Now he was angry._

“You’re the only one stupid enough to hear him out and and believe him! Everytime he does something to you he apologizes and says “I’ll be better” as if it means anything!”

“You know why you always go back, Wil? Because everything he does to you; every bone he breaks or bruises he leaves is just another “sign” to you! You stupidly believe that whatever fucked up shit going on between you two is “love” but it’s not and you’re blindly following him.”

“You’re an idiot, Will! A fucking blind fool. And you think everything reminds you of him but really it’s just your constant crying’ that reminds you of that prick!”

Tommy was mad, and honestly, Wilbur couldn’t. He was going to be late and Schlatt would know, know that he was somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be at. ‘Chit-chatting pointlessly and worrying his family.’ 

_He was right, Schallt was always right._

Maybe he’d be drunk tonight and Wilbur could just pretend to sleep? That would definitely make avoiding the accusing questions easier to avoid.

Tommy was still shouting but Wilbur had stopped listening, he had to think of more important things. He really should be heading home right about now. If he does he can make it before Schlatt does. 

“Honestly Wil, Techno was right about all of this! About Schlatt, you, and all of the other fucked up shit-”

-“I’m going home now Tommy.” Wilbur wasn’t used to cutting others off, especially when they were angry, but he seemed to do that a lot with his family. He shouldn’t get used to it at home. 

“Wil!” Back to crying, Tommy is really going to be exhausted after this. Hopefully he won’t become ill from all of this unnecessary stress. 

“I’m sorry Tommy,” A great start to a goodbye, “Tell dad I miss him and I’ll try to visit when he’s home next time.” 

“Wil please!”

Walking out of his old home was much easier than leaving his own current home. Less attachment or more like, less worrying. What was very similar is a person grabbing onto him to stop him. Similar in the way that they both hurt. 

Wincing was a bad habit that Wilbur also had to stop. It was annoying and caused people to worry. 

“You’re hurt! Is it your arm again? Let me see-”

-”I’m alright.”

Good thing Wilbur was used to pulling away from a much stronger grip. 

“I’m sorry Tom.” A final goodbye, for now anyways. 

_He really had to get home._

Turning around and closing the door was followed by a cry emitted after a small subtle thud was heard; caused by the young boy’s defeat. 

One day he’ll understand. It just took time, it always takes time.

Walking home was a lot colder then what Wilbur had expected. He wished he would have taken the car, but on the off chance that Schaltt came home early and noticed a missing car when it was stated that Wilbur would be home, it was a safer bet to walk and take the bus. Waiting for the bus was nerve-wracking. 

God, when did the bus move so slowly?

Tapping his fingers always helped Wilbur concentrate. Though he couldn’t do it at home since it distracted Schlatt from his work. He supposed that was why Wilbur could never focus enough to do useful things at home.

_At least he tried._

Freezing hands helped push him up and off the bus seat and held onto the guiding handles down the stairs as Wilbur exited the bus. Just a few streets down and he would be home. 

Good thing it’s warm at home. Even better when Schlatt’s car still wasn’t parked next to his.

Now cold hands reached for the door knob and his keys, though upon contact, Wilbur noticed the door was unlocked. Jesus, he must have forgotten to lock the door when he left, that could’ve been bad.

Entering the warmth, Wilbur took off his shoes and continued his walk in. The chill in his bones already leaving. 

_It was good to be home._

Walking towards the bedroom, Wilbur had never felt more relieved at the thought of getting to lay on his and Schallt’s bed alone. All the space for him and his aching, tired body. 

“Where were you, Wil?”

_The living room always seems to be the place where arguments became wars._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you look forward to the next chapters. (:  
> ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ


End file.
